


An Unfamiliar Angle

by The_Grynne



Category: Black Sails, Inception (2010)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Grynne/pseuds/The_Grynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unconnected drabbles originally posted on Tumblr.<br/>1. Flint on violence and its repercussions.<br/>2. Anne goes to Max for help.<br/>3. Before Vane accepts Anne Bonny as a member of the Ranger's crew, he challenges her to a fight.<br/>4. Jack always gets wasted right after a job. The Inception AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint and Vane, violence. Prompt from motleypatches.

All true beneficiaries of our age have this in common: conceding to the necessity of violence, not having an aversion to using it. For what else does the wealth of men and nations rest on but plunder - be it of uncivilised peoples, merchant ships, or the earth for its specie? In that fundamental regard, are we are any different from the man who spies method combined with opportunity, and has the courage to take it?

But how to do so, and yet evade the violence of the law when it is turned upon us? How to capture and grow rich, and yet live old enough to die peaceful in sleep?

Let me tell you as I see it.

We can fight one another, Vane, scrabbling for the privilege of being the first to dangle at the end of a noose when Spain or England sends their navy to wrest this island from us. Or - we can set aside temporarily those grievances, past and present, between us, recognising our common interests and allow for some scope - a greater vision. 

By right of blood, and sweat and sword, we are the owners of this place.


	2. Solidarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne Bonny and Max, planning. Prompt from rodlox.

'Fifteen pesos.'

'The _fuck_?’ Anne slaps aside the small bottle with its inky-green contents. ‘I may be knocked up, but I’m not an imbecile.’

Max sighs. Tipped onto its side, with stopper still intact, the bottle rolls precariously close to the table edge. She rescues it before it can fall, handling it brusquely, with none of the slow sensuousness that is usually lent to all her movements. ‘That will still be fifteen pesos,’ she says. ‘Five for the draught, plus ten for my discretion.’

'Tell it to the fucking thoroughfare,' Anne growls, baring her teeth. 'I don't give a fuck, as long as this does what I need it to do.'

'It will.'

'You've had it?' A challenge in Anne's glare.

'Twice,' Max says, smoothly. 'So take my advice. There will be much pain - bleeding, for at least two days. You should stay here. Your - your crew-mates do not need to see you like that.'

Anne considers a while, then nods. ‘Let me guess - extra for the bed?’

'Five per night, seeing as it'll be my bed and this pussy does not come cheap.' Anne's face clenches in a laugh that slides jaggedly into a grimace, and without thinking, Max reaches out, her hand grazing Anne's grimy shirt-sleeve. 'Don't worry, _ma chère_. Max will look after everything.’


	3. Legend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Vane accepts Anne Bonny as a member of the Ranger's crew, he challenges her to a fight.

An hour before, Anne was perfectly naked, lying like a heavy bolt of silk across Jack’s lap.

Now, he watches, heart in throat, as she circles Vane, bare feet taking to the moving deck as if she was born to the sea. There is no mistaking her for anything but a woman - a woman in her dead husband’s clothes, razor-edged cutlass in hand - fighting for her life against a man.

Earlier, fingers combing long red skeins of Anne’s hair, still dark with sweat, Jack sought to dissuade her of trying to win, should the captain seek to test her mettle. Fight bravely and well, yes - prove that a woman could be the equal of a man - but she did not have to best Vane. She just had to be convincing. 

The crew are certainly convinced. To the last man, they cheer each time Vane’s thrusts and connects, roar like a pack of beasts at every line of blood drawn on cotton, before Anne can dart out of reach.

'Damn it, Charles!' To Jack's relief, he does not choke, shouting to be heard over the uproar; he sounds his usual exasperated self. Anne is not giving in. The longer she holds out in full view of the crew, the greater the odds that it gets taken for insult, and the more dangerous Vane could become. 'Have we truly nothing better to do? Are you going to make a habit of welcoming all newcomers like this?'

Vane laughs, a low, lazy rumble. ‘The bitch isn’t on the account yet!’

'How about now?' says a woman's husky voice. A cutlass flies through the air, blade spinning downward in an arc directed at Vane, who raises his own weapon at the last second. Metal clashes against metal; the ring of onlookers backs away hurriedly, as in a clatter, both swords fall to the deck.

Anne is breathing audibly, rapid and shallow.

_She’s dead. She’s dead and it’s my fault. Never mind that she talked me into this. I should never have encouraged her._

Jack forces his way to the front, over to Vane. Before anyone else can react, he flashes his jovial grin at Vane, and then around at the entire crew. ‘Well, that’s what I call an interview,’ he says. ‘I think we’ve just found your new bodyguard, Charles, and a less likely looking one there never was.’

The captain is still staring at Anne, something explosive roiling just under his gleaming red skin. Jack cannot read him when he is like this, cannot rely on him to act rationally. If Vane opts to kill Anne, Jack could veto the decision, as quartermaster. But that might expose him as Anne’s lover, and how long before the challenge got him killed in turn?

The verdict comes none too soon. 

Vane walks forward. He claps Anne once upon the back with a heavy, calloused hand and says, finally, ‘Welcome aboard the Ranger, Anne Bonny.’ 


	4. Something Stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack always gets wasted right after a job. The Inception AU.

Accept. And, without indulgence, try to see his needs not as weakness or a failing of the personality, but as symptoms of his gift. You are not enough. The job is not enough. When he wakes, the Somnacin flush in his blood will not keep him from flying out the door, searching for the colours, the nitroglycerin. Fuel for centripetal fireworks still armed inside the matchstick cocoon of his skin. Nothing can hold him in.

_Psssshhhh! Woooossshhh!_

Jack is not Jack unless he is on the verge of igniting after a job, geared to explode into bright, buzzing shards.

In dreams and in life, you are his designated driver, keeping him on point. Keeping him safe. Until the morning after - or more accurately, early afternoon. ‘Christ almighty,’ he moans pitifully, eyes unfocused, head barely lifted from the plush hotel pillow. ‘Is that coffee I smell, Annie?’ The pot is cold, but he does not mind so long as it’s strong and black. You curl up on top of the sheets, waiting, watching him slowly sip, until the foreign elements drain from his face, and he is familiar - returned undiluted, yours again.


End file.
